Desperation that Leaves us Breathless
by MariaHime
Summary: My reaction to Shooting Star. This was almost completely outlined halfway through the episode, and mostly written a few hours after, but it kind of sat there doing nothing for a while until I decided to finish it. If you want a cute, fluffy, slightly lemony Klaine reunion fic, this is what you need. Basically my wishful thinking brought to metaphorical paper.


**A/N: My reaction to Shooting Star. This was almost completely outlined halfway through the episode, and mostly written a few hours after, but it kind of sat there doing nothing for a while until I decided to finish it. If you want a cute, fluffy, slightly lemony Klaine reunion fic, this is what you need. Basically my wishful thinking brought to metaphorical paper. Should I continue? Please let me know! I know I've been uploading stuff, but I'm still VERY insecure about my writing. I need constructive criticism. Also I still dislike ending stuff with people falling asleep, but here it worked. I hope it doesn't suck as much as I think it does...**

**Try to enjoy!**

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Desperation that Leaves us Breathless

Kurt doesn't know what is happening around him. He does not feel or hear or see anything, he only knows the five words he heard...he doesn't even know how long ago.

"There were gunshots at McKinley."

Santana tells him this, the second he comes home from his morning class, tears streaming down her face. His phone is still on silent, has been all morning. Then numbness. This is all he remembers.

It's as if he's in a swimming pool - trying to hear, but everything sounds weird; trying to see, but opening his eyes hurts; trying to breathe, and the pain makes him want to sputter and cough. There is no awareness of himself at all. There is only one sentence.

"There were gunshots at McKinley."

Then tears. Streaming down his face, brutally quick and relentless and he can't stop them. Tears of fear. Gripping Santana's forearms, fighting to get the question out, choking on it.

"What – what?"

He can't finish it.

She knows, though. Of course she does. She also knows what she needs to do – slap him, hard, right across the face. Maybe he made a really weird sound, but he's still thankful, because she slapped him out of this ridiculous stupor.

She's sobbing, and he is terrified of what this could mean, but he doesn't interrupt, even though the way she recounts the events is halting and infuriatingly slow due to the many times her voice breaks.

"Kurt, don't fucking overreact on me now. I was just on the website of the Lima News – you know I still check it a lot even though we don't live there. Because of Brittany and my family. And there was a tiny article about something that only happened a few hours ago. There were two gunshots heard at school – at McKinley. Everyone freaked out, of course, and there was a SWAT team, and I just. Freaked. I'm sorry for springing it on you like that. The article said that nobody seems to have gotten hurt. A few panic attacks.", she sniffs, and he knows how much she still cares about Brittany, and probably even the other kids still there.

"Why – who. Whose gun?", he manages.

But she shakes her head. "They don't know yet, now help me pack."

"They don't – but – help you what?", he sputters, noticing his tears have stopped now and are dripping down his nose and drying on his cheeks. He always did tear up ridiculously quickly, and often from shocks, not just sadness and pain.

Santana makes a wide gesture, and, for the first time, he takes in the insane _mess _in the apartment. In the middle of it, there is a smallish bag, enough for essentials. Beside it, the laptop seems to just have finished a download, and he takes a closer look involuntarily.

Plane tickets.

Turning around, he sees that Santana's gaze on him is almost sheepish. "I...well. Obviously, we'd know if someone was actually hurt, but...I need to be in Lima right now. And I know you, so I thought you'd feel the same. If I was wrong, I'm sorry for assuming."

And he knows, he _knows _she hates when people do that, but he surges forward and hugs her, envelops her in his arms for just a few seconds, reveling in the surprise as she doesn't even make the feeblest attempt at pushing him away. She doesn't hug back – of course not, she's Santana Lopez – but still.

"Thanks.", he whispers, and lets go.

Only a few hours later, they are sitting in the comfortable seats of the plane, holding each others hands, offering and taking the unspoken support. Both of them have just gotten off the phone – Santana with Brittany, who is shaken up but fine and happily expecting Santana back home for a bit, and Kurt with Blaine.

Kurt has no idea in what state Blaine is, because the only thing he was able to say to Blaine on the phone was "Blaine – oh god. I – I'm on my way to Lima, baby. I'll be there soon. I love you so much, I love you I love you I love you love you love you – so sorry - " and then he had burst into tears again, because, yes, everybody is fine, and nobody got hurt, but he's still so _terrified. _

The SWAT team is actually searching the whole school, every single locker and bathroom and classroom and really every nook and cranny, and they've already interviewed everybody who had been in the choir room carefully. It had scared Blaine, he knew. He was about to try to get his shit together and actually ask Blaine about how he felt coherently, but when he finally felt he could speak, still hearing Blaine sobbing into his ear, the flight attendant had piercingly told him "Sir, the plane is about to start. I'm sorry, but you will have to turn off your phone immediately."

And Blaine had heard it and choked out "Kurt – hang up. I'm – fine. I'll see you soon, right? I'm fine. Just – shock. I love you."

As soon as it's allowed, Santana is calling another number, and seconds later, tells Kurt it's for their rental car. She booked it when they were waiting in the department lounge, but it very quickly becomes clear that she isn't in a state to drive a car, so she hands the keys to Kurt.

He is only a hair's breadth below the speed limit, and he has never in his life been more thankful that his father is so in love with cars that he has given Kurt the best driving lessons ever, because otherwise he would already have crashed the car several times.

"You – can you take me to Brittany's house? And then go to Blaine. We'll talk once we've made sure they're fine and stuff.", she asks, and he nods.

When they reach Brittany's house, the cheerio is already waiting on the porch wearing sweatpants and a sweater, her mother to her left and her father to her right, cradling her close between them, still so, so scared of what might have been. The sun is sinking, but the light on the porch is bright and nobody notices the oncoming darkness.

Brittany jumps up when they exit the car together, and hugs them both at the same time. Only a little bit of hugging and "You're fine – so glad you're fine – you have no idea - " passes, before Brittany chokes out "Kurt – go. Blaine."

And he drops a kiss on her cheek, blinks away the tears of relief, and has restarted the car in a matter of seconds. He actually speeds this time, he's at least five miles over the limit, but there is nobody in sight that could have anything to say about it, and he forgoes this traffic law for once. It's irrational, this fear he has. He knows. He knows Blaine is fine, and even if it was scary as hell and there is no knowledge - yet - of where the gunshots actually came from, _nobody got hurt_.

_Blaine _isn't hurt.

So why does he feel like he needs to see him or he might explode?

When he stops the car in front of a traffic light that he _knows _takes an eternity to turn green, he sends a quick text. '_Almost there_'.

He has done this before, and the old familiarity in this horribly frightening thing that has led him to be here today is astounding.

What is waiting for him at the Anderson's villa is not much different from what he has just seen at the Pierce's. Blaine is on the broad garden swing that is on the porch, his knees drawn up close to his chest, and his parents are waiting with him. If Kurt were able to look at them, he may have thought that there were many parents in Lima that had this haunted look on their faces tonight.

But he can't look at them, because the second he stops the car, Blaine looks up at the sound, sees him and is running down the porch steps in the blink of an eye.

He barely has time to slam shut the car door before he finds himself with an armful of Blaine. They don't speak – yet, because they can't and it would be too much. They just wrap their arms around each other, Blaine's on Kurt's waist like a child hugging their mother, and Kurt's – everywhere. He just touches, revels in Blaine, perfect, unhurt, but shaking as he finally lets out what he hasn't even been able to show his parents yet.

Kurt notices he's crying when Blaine wipes away a tear with his thumb, so careful, so loving, so _familiar, _that it triggers another wave of tears. Blaine and Kurt cry because of relief, fear, happiness and love, and they don't stop for a long time. When they manage to do, it's dark and Blaine's parents have gone inside, graciously giving them some privacy. Or maybe not able to stand seeing their son fall apart like this, in the arms of the boy they had never planned to even accept.

That had been so long ago. And they tell this to each other, watching the young couple through the window, undetected, not even knowing what they're waiting to see. It doesn't even matter to them, anyway, because right now, Kurt Hummel is here and has left New York and is crying because of their son and should it hurt more that it's his arms their baby boy is crying in?

With every time that Kurt breathes in Blaine's scent, the words that had been forming in his mind for several hours come back to him, and as his tears slow and he is able to gather himself, he decides that it's time to say them.

"Blaine."

His voice sounds scratchy and weird, and he clears his throat to start again.

"Blaine, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, so, so, so, so sorry. Please forgive me. I'm so sorry.", he manages, and this isn't exactly the clear speech he had in mind, but it's the beginning. Now he only has to get to the next part.

A verbal nudge from Blaine is what helps him. "What are you – what do you have to be sorry for?", Blaine's voice is as scratchy as his own, but the incredulity and confusion is clear.

Arms still tight around Blaine's shoulders, he almost whispers "I'm sorry, because I love you, so, so much, and because it took me a situation in which I feared for your _life _to realize what a stupid idiot I've been for not having forgiven you and - if you'll still have me - taken you back again... I'm sorry because I tried to push us into being some crazy, warped, 'friends with benefits' situation like the worst kinds of Thursday night TV shows the last time I was in Lima."

While he speaks, Blaine lifts his head from where it's buried, right where he can smell Kurt's comforting fragrance the best, where his shoulder meets his neck, and he looks into Kurt's eyes. He's watching his face carefully, reading the love and honesty and _fear, _as if he never stopped doing it. And the tears shine in his eyes, and Blaine feels so guilty.

He shakes his head at the absurdity of it. Of course this idiot would find a way to turn himself into the villain. "That's ridiculous. Kurt, I _cheated. _I did the worst thing ever, and you're apologizing for not forgiving me? What is even going on with you? And now you tell me that you still-", he can't say it. Because he never really believed it.

Not after Kurt's expression, many months ago, when Blaine said _'I was with someone'._

"No, Blaine.", Kurt says calmly. "That's what I was wrong about. Cheating was never the worst thing you could have done. What I feared today, if only for a few minutes – until Santana explained properly what happened – was the worst thing you could have done to me. You dying. Leaving me behind and just – _dying_. When you compare that to what you did with that guy – out of fear and insecurity and things that were my fault anyway, for making you feel so left behind, I _get_ it now – is _nothing. _Nothing, against what your death would have done to me.", he blinks away more tears, waiting for Blaine's answer to the unspoken question.

Of course Blaine doesn't just give him the satisfaction of a quick 'yes'.

"So you love me again and forgive me and be back together with me?", he asks, and it sounds so childish and adorable and he can only shake his head and answer "Oh honey. As if I ever _stopped _loving you."

And they're done with the words and tears, at least for now, because there are way more important things to do with lips and tongues and eyes. Their lips meet under the weak light, and they could as well have been standing on a brilliant white beach with the sun shining on them, for them, or in the ice cold fields of Greenland, or on the highest mountain in the world, or simply in heaven, because this is finally, after months, finally home.

Their eyes are open for the first few seconds – screw the close-your-eyes-while-kissing rule, they love each other - but soon their eyes flutter closed after all as it becomes too much. And they can finally say it again, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

When Kurt notices how pink Blaine's cheeks have gotten, he realizes it's a bit too cold to be standing outside so late. "You should go inside.", he whispers.

Blaine stares at him, horrified. "You're leaving?"

"Not if you don't want me to and your parents don't mind.", he assures quickly, and is being pulled towards the house the very same second.

Mr and Mrs Anderson are just getting dinner ready, and when they've eaten, Blaine asks if Kurt can stay. At his mother's skeptical expression, he says. "Please. I know I won't be able to sleep anyway, at least I'll have company. You and dad have work tomorrow, too."

He means they should get some sleep, but in the end, it doesn't happen. They invite Kurt to stay the night, just as they invited him for dinner, and after he gets his overnight bag from the car to change into sweatpants and a t-shirt, the four of them sit down in the living room together. They talk about how the day was for them, comforting each other and sighing as Blaine's father promises that whoever fired off a gun today _will _be found soon and they have nothing to worry about. He's trying to convince himself as much as his wife and the two boys on the couch. Hours later, Kurt has Blaine in his arms, and a fluffy blanket is draped around them as Blaine talks to Cooper on the phone.

Kurt strokes his hair and drops soft kisses on his temple, watching him, soaking up the fact that Blaine is _fine_. And in his arms. He knows Mr and Mrs Anderson are watching as they converse quietly, but both of them have seen the boys kiss many times before and he really does not care about what they think about this at the moment.

When Blaine hangs up, he turns to Kurt with a small, relieved smile on his lips. "He was so worried. It was kind of sweet."

Mrs Anderson shakes her head exasperatedly. "Of course he was. We all were. Still are. I think the two of you should get to sleep, but I _will _demand an explanation for this", she gestures between them "tomorrow morning. And no funny business in my house." Then she gets up, drops a kiss on Blaine's forehead and leaves for her bedroom, yawning along the way.

"She's right. You boys should sleep, and we'll talk in the morning.", Mr Anderson says, but instead of getting up to go to bed, he opens a book and starts reading. It's his usual go-to comfort when he's wound up like this, reading poetry always calms him, and he knows he will not be able to fall asleep if he doesn't do it now. His words make his son pout, not wanting to get up from where he is nestled against Kurt's chest comfortably. Upon seeing the cute expression, Kurt can't help but smile.

His dad looks up, catching the boys staring at each other adoringly – again. "Blaine. Get up, you'll both be more comfortable in bed. And Kurt told us at dinner that he's been awake since five in the morning, remember? It's past two now.", he admonishes gently.

Blaine groans, but gets up reluctantly, pulling Kurt with him. When they're in Blaine's bedroom, it feels a bit surreal to Kurt, but Blaine pulls him to bed and snuggles up to him, sighing in contentment, and the awkwardness falls away like it never even existed. It's amazing how calm they've managed to become by now, even if merely thinking about the gunshots makes Blaine's blood run cold. He'll be glad when the police have figured out where it came from, but he doesn't think he'll ever feel completely safe at McKinley again.

For maybe fifteen minutes, they both think they're about to fall asleep, but it doesn't happen. Their eyes stay wide open, no matter how much they try to tell themselves that they need to sleep and that they have a long day ahead tomorrow.

"I give up.", Kurt groans, and Blaine sighs in relief. "Thank god. I was starting to think I'd spend the whole night awake and staring at nothing." And so they end up with the light on, still cuddling and talking quietly.

"This feels so … I don't know. Familiar, but not?", Blaine says after a while, "You know what I mean?"

Kurt doesn't have to think about his answer, "I know exactly what you mean. It's like you never left my arms at all, but also like everything's somehow different. I guess we'll be needing some time to get used to being together again? And Blaine, I promise I'll do everything right this time. I swear.", he sits up, eyes blazing. Blaine follows, his own eyes widening at the passion in Kurt's voice and expression. He needs Blaine to understand this, to _know _it. To never forget it.

Before he continues, he takes both of his hands, holding them tightly like an anchor. "Look, Blaine. We both got into this relationship without ever having been anyone's boyfriend for any length of time before. And I do not count my time with Brittany.", he says seriously. "And we had no idea what we were doing, we've just been winging it, and it worked, and I thought it would work the same with a long-distance relationship. Of course it didn't, and I was stupid to assume it would. Looking back, Blaine, I realize I hardly paid any attention to you in the last few weeks. It hurts knowing what that must have done to you, but it was necessary for me to make that experience. I'll never, ever let it come to the point that you think I don't love you anymore, or that you're not enough for me. I love you, and I intend to show you every day, no matter how many miles separate us. Blaine, this is going to _work_ this time."

There are tears in Blaine's eyes now. He's been listening, biting his tongue all the time to keep himself from interrupting, and now he finally allows himself to speak. "You don't – you can't imagine how long I wanted to hear that from you, Kurt. I love you, and I'm so sorry that I almost destroyed us forever."

Blinking away tears, Kurt shakes his eyes. "No...no. Please let's stop apologizing, okay?"

And Blaine nods furiously, then fuses their lips together desperately. They kiss for a long time, and when Kurt breaks the kiss, they're both flushed and their lips are swollen red. At Blaine's pouting expression, he giggles, then pulls himself together.

"I wasn't done yet, baby. I know I'm babbling too much...I guess I'm catching up on what I missed saying to you b-before we broke up." His voice is shaking slightly, but Blaine is listening with rapt attention. He beams happily. "Good. I like listening to you saying sweet things to me."

"I'm glad. Now wait a minute.", he lets go of Blaine's hands and stands up from the bed. For a few moments, he rummages through his bag and comes back with something dark red clutched in his hand. "T-this is probably the most difficult gift I've ever given, but it's time you finally get it."

Kurt goes back to his place sitting opposite Blaine and sets the tiny square box on the bed, unable to hold it any longer. When he stays unmoving, Blaine decides to take matters into his own hands and reaches for it, gingerly opening it. A tiny piece of papers falls out and into his lap, revealing a gorgeous eternity band in the box.

Blaine sucks in a shocked breath and, when Kurt still makes no move to stop him, he reaches for the piece of paper in his lap, folding it open and reading the few words, written in very familiar handwriting.

"_This belongs to Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. If anything happens to me before I can give it to him myself, I want this ring to go to Blaine Devon Anderson."_

When he looks up, there is so much fear and nervousness in Kurt's eyes, and he can't fathom _why. _Since _when?_

"Since when have you had this?", he croaks, throat tight with tears.

Before he answers, Kurt blinks and takes a steadying breath that doesn't seem to help at all. "I've had it for months. I bought it in my first week in New York...I knew it was crazy and I should have spent my money on other things like groceries and the new apartment, but I saw it in a shop window and just...had to."

"And you kept it all this time? Why?", Blaine asks, dreading the answer.

When Kurt gives a startled laugh, he almost falls off the bed. "I absolutely forgot that I even had it. It was buried with a huge amount of summer clothes under my bed. Santana rooted through all of our stuff a few weeks ago and must have found it, but didn't say anything to me. I guess she read my note, though, because while you were in the bathroom, she sent me a text message.", he answers, then reaches over to the nightstand where his phone lies.

A few taps on the screen, and then he turns it toward Blaine, letting him read the text message.

"_Look in the inner left side pocket of your traveling bag. There's something your Blaine might want ;)"_

Blaine can also see Kurt's response under the message, and that it was sent about seven minutes after Santana's.

"_SANTANA ARE YOU INSANE? WHERE DID YOU EVEN FIND THIS?!"_

Maybe Blaine would have laughed at the utter panic in Kurt's message if this had been a different, less crazy and serious and more light and funny situation.

But probably not, he thinks.

"Why are you showing me this now? Because I might have died yesterday?", his voice is impossibly high, and he almost says _today, _but it's nearly four in the morning. It's tomorrow already, and the terrifying events that sent Kurt flying to Ohio were almost thirteen hours ago.

Once again, Kurt looks at him intensely, his eyes seeming to look straight into Blaine's rapidly beating heart, and again, there is fear in the perfect hazel-green orbs – because that's their color right now, reflected by the dull light in Blaine's bedroom – and Blaine doesn't get it. There is no way that Kurt is asking the question he so desperately wants to hear. No way.

Except he does.

He shifts off the bed, sitting between Blaine's slightly parted legs on the floor, knees digging into the soft carpet. When he looks into Blaine's eyes, there is so much vulnerability and love in them, he wants to kiss him and never let go. But he understands that this is serious, and that he needs to give Kurt the chance to talk now. So he keeps still, glad that the ring box is in Kurt's hand now, as that gives him the freedom to dig his nails into his sweaty palms in order to not slip into a Kurt-induced coma.

Another dry, nervous swallow, then, "Blaine. I know this is crazy and weird and you're in high school. And I know people and maybe you, too, will say that this is an act of desperation and fear because of what happened at school today, but the fact is that it's _not_. I've had this ring for months. I know what I want and I know that you cheating was one mistake that does not have to stop me from loving you and wanting to be with you.", he takes Blaine's hands in his again, holding on to them as if the touch could possibly convey everything he's feeling.

"I wanted to get over you so much, I went out with Adam and even told him he's not a rebound – which really, he _wasn't_, he was just...me trying to tell myself that I could be happy without you as more than just a friend. And it almost worked, except that every second I couldn't just tell you I love you whenever I wanted, every second that I knew you were free to fall in love with someone else, that you probably _would_, it hurt so much. Just being best friends is never enough with you, Blaine." There are tears in his eyes now, and his voice is tight with restrained emotion, and his hands are shaking, but he plows on through his speech, needing Blaine to hear this.

"I knew that months ago, and I know it now. And now that we're back together, and that I know you still love me, too, I can't help but finally ask you this.", Blaine thinks he's in a marvelous, perfect, amazing dream, where Kurt is back and loves and wants him and wants to...wants to...

"I want to marry you. Will you accept this ring and become my fiancé? It absolutely doesn't mean we need to start planning or _anything_, you still have to graduate and get into NYADA and move to New York and -", his gushing is cut off by Blaine's hand over his mouth, and he has tears in his eyes as he waits for an answer, breathless and scared that he might have ruined everything forever -

"Yes. Yes, yes yes yes, of course!", Blaine chokes, and then the tears escape and for a few minutes they're just shaking and crying together, and he's pulling Kurt up, on the bed and sitting him across his lap and kissing him, messy and salty and wet with tears. They stop after only seconds, fumbling around for the box. Kurt pretty much _tears _the ring out of it, and Blaine's hand is outstretched and ready for him when he slips the ring onto the right finger, kissing his hand and lacing it together with his own.

Both of their tears have slowed enough to allow them to take in each other now, and they read the amazing happiness, the absolute euphoria on each others faces. "You do realize that you're going to have to give a similar speech to my parents, now, right?", Blaine sobs, "And we'll have to tell your dad, and the New Directions – old _and_ new ones – and Rachel will _murder_ you for not telling her first, and all the adults will help her because they'll say we'll end up like Finn and Rachel. And also we'll have to get married in New York because it's not lega-unf!", he's cut off by a demanding kiss, and then Kurt says against his lips "Say that again."

Blaine smiles, knowing Kurt can feel the smile on his mouth. "We'll get married.", he whispers, letting their lips move together with the words.

"We'll get married.", Kurt repeats.

"Kurt?"

"Yes, love?"

"You're my fiancé.", Blaine says, letting the word roll off his tongue like a french kiss.

Kurt beams. "That I am. Blaine?"

"Yes, darling?"

He raises his eyebrow at the new nickname, and Blaine shrugs and grins.

"I want to open the window and scream _He said yes! _Like an insane person.", he admits.

Blaine doesn't laugh at him. He just counters with, "I want to jump up, wake my parents if they're asleep, and shove this ring in their faces, yelling _I'm getting married to Kurt! _So I guess it's okay, since it means we're both a similar kind of insane. Common ground is important for a successful marriage, right?"

Kurt lets out a shaky breath and whispers "Oh my god, come here.", before pulling Blaine down with him, pressing lips and chests and hips together, and when Blaine is lying on top of him, he tugs at his clothes. "Off.", he commands, and Blaine complies, pulling his shirt over his head instead of wasting time unbuttoning it.

Within minutes, they're both down to boxers, and even though they're tired, and have been through about every single existing emotional roller-coaster possible in the last ten hours, they just really, really need this. Blaine rolls on his back, pulling Kurt on top and manages to tell him, "I want you to make love to me." before he surrenders to the primal instinct of doing this with Kurt.

Moments later, he has gotten a bottle of lube and a condom out of his drawer, but when Kurt eyes the condom in a distasteful way and asks, "We...we need that?", he truthfully answers, "Not if you haven't been with anyone.", and it's the last unasked question. Kurt grabs the condom and brutally _hurls _it back into the open drawer, saying "Then, no."

With that, the last wall has shattered, and it seems like only seconds later when Blaine is being stretched and made ready by Kurt's gentle fingers, and they're moaning "I love you, I love you, I love you...", together, Kurt stroking over Blaine's little nub of pleasure carefully, and it should be weird because his right hand is still tangled with Blaine's left, thumb stroking over fingers and the cool material of the ring, but it isn't. It's beautiful and fast and slow at the same time, gentle and passionate and just like their first time but also so, so different.

When Kurt finally sinks into him, it feels like there are stars exploding in gorgeous supernovas behind his eyelids. He's never felt so good, so _complete _before. Every thrust hits his prostate with practiced ease, causing the most delicious pleasure.

"Oh, god. Baby, come inside me okay?", he gasps when he feels close, body clenching around Kurt deliciously.

"Mmh, of course, love. Anything you want. Anything. Are you close?", he asks, slowing his thrusts a little, measuring each one carefully, moving languidly and slowly. The tight drag of his cock inside Blaine's heat feels even more amazing like this. He never wants it to end. "Yes...oh, Kurt. D-don't slow down. I c-can't – so good - "

Kurt kisses him softly, cutting off another moan. "Would you like to ride it out, baby?", he asks.

"I – no. Too tired."

With another soft kiss, Kurt whispers "Very well, then.", and immediately speeds up his thrusts, letting go of Blaine's hand and starting to stroke his cock firmly in time with the movements of his hips.

After this, it doesn't take them much longer, and soon Kurt is filling Blaine up while he spills over his fist, coming in hot, pearly streaks all over his own chest and Kurt's hand. As soon as both of them come down from their highs, Kurt pulls out, careful not to move too fast. Blaine still winces a little – it's been a long time since he fingered himself, and even longer since he had sex.

They fall asleep in a tangled, sweaty mass of limbs, finally having said everything they needed to, and finally able to rest.


End file.
